A Thousand Words
by Lalalupin
Summary: One-shot series. "They say a picture is worth a thousand words." Jane/Lisbon, exploring their relationship through photos. Story #6 "Reminder" now up.
1. CBI ID

**A Thousand Words**

**Hello :) So, I am still writing my multi-chapters, but this is just another project I've decided on for when I don't want to/can't write them. So, this is a series of one-shots exploring Jane and Lisbon's relationship, through photos they've taken over the years. Each one-shot is a thousand words, to match the phrase "a picture is worth a thousand words." So yeah, this is just pure Jane/Lisbon fluff I guess, so I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Sorry. No rights unfortunately. **

**CBI ID**

He had impressed them, apparently. They thought he was a psychic, and although he had corrected them many times, they were still awed by his observational skills. He had managed to put a crooked cop and killer behind bars. And now, they wanted him on as a CBI consultant. Patrick Jane thought he had been cursed to a life of loneliness, but it appeared there were people who still wanted him. It was nice to be needed, he realised.

He was nervous, but he didn't know why. It was his first official day as a CBI consultant, and according to Agent Lisbon, they required to take his photo for his official ID. He hadn't had an official photo taken since his family had been killed. The notion scared him, made his insomnia worse, so he'd left his motel room in the early hours of the morning, showering, shaving and even getting a fresh three-piece suit before going to CBI HQ. Teresa Lisbon looked slightly surprised to see him in the bullpen, so early in the morning, but she didn't say anything. Jane stood up from _his _leather couch in _his_ corner. He had been in the place just a few days, and they'd already given him his own designated area. There were times he felt like a super hero, saving the world, one criminal at a time.

He was no hero though. It was through his own arrogance and ignorance that his family, his beloved wife and daughter, had been murdered brutally at the hands of a serial killer. The serious crimes unit seemed to ignore these facts though, and had already welcomed him warmly. Slowly, Jane approached the female agent's office. He didn't knock, and knew she was too polite to say anything if it annoyed her. It did annoy her, and he knew it. He absently noticed the atrocious red couch in the corner, and decided instantly that, one day, he would buy this woman a new couch. It would be a thank you gift, for accepting him and all his demons, but she wouldn't know that.

"Can I help you, Mr Jane?" she asked softly.

An awry smile came across his features. Lisbon still insisted on calling him _Mr Jane_, rather than just using his last name like the rest of her team. He had a seeking suspicion that she didn't think he would stay long enough for the formality to be dropped. He would prove her wrong. "When's the photo getting taken?" he asked her.

She smiled sympathetically. "It's eight in the morning," she told him.

"I know that," he said edgily.

"There's no need to be nervous, Mr Jane," she said with a light laugh. "It's just a photo," she left her desk, and walked to stand in front of him. "You've even cleaned yourself up for it," the dark haired woman told him with a smile.

He smiled back, but didn't dare tell her of his fears. He would never get close to anyone again. She knew, of course, about his family. That's why she treated him so nicely. He hated photos. He always had. Jane regretted it now, though; there was just one photo of him, Angela and Charlotte, taken just mere months before he had mocked Red John and they died. The photo stayed in his wallet, and the slowly dying believer in him liked to think they followed him everywhere. This wasn't true, of course, and he knew it.

"Mr Jane, the photo will be taken at 11," she told him.

He nodded slowly. "I'll have a look at some Red John files then," he said, though his statement sounded like a question.

She smiled sadly. "Okay," she whispered. "I'll come and get you when it's time,"

He was going to politely deny his offer; the idea of someone going out of their way to help him was completely foreign. Instead, he smiled. "Sure," he said.

He diligently read several of the files for just over two hours. By the time the rest of the team arrived-Wayne Rigsby and Kimball Cho, Jane had fallen asleep, finding listening to them work quite soothing.

"Mr Jane," someone was shaking his shoulder softly.

He opened his eyes to see Agent Lisbon kneeling down next to his couch. He smiled. "Is it time?"

She nodded. "Yeah,"

He sat up and yawned. "Where do we go?"

She motioned to somewhere behind her with a flick of her head. "Come on. I'll show you,"

He followed her down countless hallways and flights of stairs, until they were in the mail room. Lisbon wrinkled her nose. "I've told them so many times we need to move this place," she muttered to herself.

Jane smiled slightly. Lisbon pointed him in the right direction. "Just over there. It shouldn't take too long," she told him. "It's not every day we get new consultants,"

He laughed slightly. "Thank you, Agent Lisbon,"

"No problem," she replied. "I'll just wait over there," she told him, showing him a couch in the corner.

Before she could sit down, a sturdily built man with red hair walked into the small room. "Agent Lisbon," he stammered. "Who's this?" he asked.

Lisbon smiled. "Ron, this is Patrick Jane, my consultant."

Jane smiled proudly. Not just _a _consultant. _Agent Lisbon's_ consultant.

"This way please, Mr Jane," Ron told him.

Jane had to sit on a small, red stool, the same material as Lisbon's couch. It squeaked slightly as he put his weight on it.

"Okay, Mr Jane, look this way please. I know it sounds stupid, but no smiles please. Ron was sitting behind a modest but large camera. "CBI protocol," he explained.

Moments later, he was walking out of the room, proudly donning an identification card: _Patrick Jane. CBI Consultant._ He smiled despite himself. Perhaps photos weren't all bad.

Lisbon was sitting on the couch, just as she promised. "Come on, Jane" she told him. "We have a case."

It seemed he would be staying after all.

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I really hope you liked it, and will stick around for some more. Tell me what you think :)**


	2. Case Closed Pizzas

**Case Closed Pizzas**

Jane had been with the team for a few months, and it was after one particularly heavy case involving missing children and another psychopath that the SCU introduced him to the custom that was case closed pizzas. He judged by Rigsby's face lighting up like a child's on Christmas that the pizzas used to be a common occurrence before he came along. Still, he liked the idea that the whole team was getting used to having him around, involving him in such occasions.

That evening, Lisbon walked into the bullpen laden with boxes of the stuff, and a few beers. She smiled briefly as she passed his couch, before setting everything down on the conference table in the middle of the room. Once they were all seated, Rigsby called him over. Jane refused to not take up such an offer. Even if he wasn't the greatest fan of pizza and beer.

"What's all this for?" he asked.

Lisbon motioned for him to sit down. "I just thought you boys deserved some pizza," she told the consultant.

With a raised eyebrow from him, she explained further, "It was a tough case, and I thought the pizza and beer would help cheer everyone up," she told him.

"We used to do this all the time," Rigsby added.

Jane grimaced slightly at what the tall agent was inadvertently implying; they used to do it all the time, _before_ he arrived.

Cho hit Rigsby over the head with a file. "You're such an idiot," he groaned.

Rigsby turned to Jane, rubbing his head. "Sorry, man," he said.

He shook his head, chuckling. "No problem, Rigsby,"

Both Cho and Lisbon were glaring at Rigsby, making Jane feel uncomfortable. "It's fine, really," he reassured them. "Of course there's gonna be things you used to do before I came, and I just want to say, that I'm really grateful you've accepted me so readily,"

The incident quickly forgotten, Jane smiled at Lisbon, and took a moment to realise he knew next to nothing about the agent. If he were to guess though, he would've thought that she helped raise younger siblings as a child. That would explain why she was so willing to help a broken man such as himself, and she was so selfless.

Rigsby and Cho, on the other hand, seemed familiar with the closed case pizzas, and looked eager to start. Rigsby more particularly than Cho. Jane smiled softly to himself; the team dynamics truly fascinated him, and he was glad they were accepting him as another member. He noticed the two male agents waiting impatiently to start, waiting for Lisbon to give them the all clear. People respected this woman, and were happy to listen to her. "Go on, then," she said with a small shake of her head. Jane was glad to see she was smiling too.

Paper plates and plastic cups were passed quickly among the team, and the concept of sharing food among others was so foreign for Jane. Coming from a carny background, he had no memory of doing such things in his childhood. Perhaps it was living with his father, but Jane was sure his folk didn't do things like that. After leaving with Angela, Jane had never once bought them pizza. He was so self-centred, and never once asked her if she wanted some. It was a stupid reason to feel so down, he knew, but he found it hard to swallow.

Moments later, Lisbon touched his arm lightly. Jane looked at her, and she smiled reassuringly. "You okay?" she asked.

He smiled back. "Never better," looking down, he saw his plate laden with pieces of pizza, and his cup filled with beer. His smile transformed into a grin. "Thanks, guys," he said quietly.

Cho nodded silently, Rigsby didn't reply, having already filled his mouth with pizza. Lisbon gave him the thumbs up. Jane chuckled. He could get used to this dysfunctional family. They all seemed to rely on one another, and the idea of having others to care for him, though slightly scary and unfamiliar, was appealing for Jane. He had never had that before.

Jane shrugged, picked up a piece of pizza and took a bite. It was the best damn pizza he'd ever tasted. Between mouthfuls he stood up, and retrieved his phone from his pocket. "Mind if I take a photo?" he asked.

Lisbon raised an eyebrow at him. She didn't look annoyed though, more quietly amused. "Why?" she asked lightly.

He grinned. "I've never seen anything like this before, and I want to take a picture, so I won't forget it." It was a lie, of course. Jane had a fantastically built memory palace, that would hold all the images he wanted it to from this occasion. Still, he wished to take a photo, for sentimental purposes, he guessed. He didn't know how long he would be at the CBI for, and he wanted some sort of record for it. Photos seemed like the best idea.

Lisbon shrugged. "I don't see why not," she said with a small smile.

Jane's eyes lit up. "Can you go sit behind Rigsby and Cho?" he requested.

She obliged, taking her cup of beer. "Here?" she asked.

He nodded. "Perfect,"

Rigsby had finished eating for the moment, so he got big smiles from all of the team. "Okay, just a second," he told them, flipping his phone open and finding the camera operation. Jane found it quite easily, and was proud of himself. It was a simple task, but he hated technology. Subconsciously he noticed how Lisbon in particular had a wonderful smile. He was determined to see that smile as much as he could. "Okay, three, two, one…" he pressed the middle button on his Motorola phone, and the picture saved. "All done," he said.

After taking the photo, Jane sat back down, and Lisbon joined him. He turned to the dark haired agent, "Next time we close a case, how about I buy donuts?"


	3. Newcomer

**A/N: I'm very sorry for the delay. Even though I've got many ideas for this series, I've been really busy and haven't had the time to write. I hope you guys haven't lost interest though, and enjoy this next one :) **

**Newcomer**

It seemed Patrick Jane wasn't going to be the new kid in class anymore. Agent Lisbon and her team had finally found a replacement for their ex-colleague Hannigan.

Agent Grace Van Pelt.

The fiery red head seemed to have won the hearts of the entire SCU. Especially Rigsby, who was visibly in love with the woman since first laying eyes on her picture. Jane had to admit; she was going to be a good and capable agent, but he couldn't help but feel slightly weary of the newcomer.

"She's totally out of your league, man," Cho told Rigsby for the umpteenth time.

Rigsby whined childishly and backed away from the window.

Jane looked up from the Red John file he was reading and chuckled slightly. This was definitely one of the strangest families he had ever come across. He subconsciously readjusted his three piece suit, having not worn one before joining the CBI. He liked it, sure, but was still self-conscious wearing it.

Lisbon had been watching the scene unfold before her from the safety of her office square. Though it could hardly be called a real office, it was secluded from the rest of the open bullpen, making her feel like an outcast occasionally. She eyed her consultant, sitting on the worn leather couch he claimed the day he arrived. Lisbon still wasn't sure what to make of him. He disliked rules; mocking attorneys and taunting suspects, but seemed to respect them on her account. The faux psychic was a strange character; one she wasn't too sure she wanted to get to know. A tap on the wall pulled her from her thoughts on her team, and her eyes fell to the door. Lisbon smiled, stood up and walked over to the newcomer.

"Grace Van Pelt, I presume?" she asked politely, holding out her hand. "I'm Agent Lisbon,"

Van Pelt shook the senior agent's hand enthusiastically. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am,"

"Welcome to the Serious Crimes Unit of the CBI," Lisbon continued formally. "Do you want to meet the rest of the team you'll be working with?"

The young agent nodded. "I'd love to,"

Lisbon motioned for Van Pelt to follow, and led her out to the bullpen.

"Cho, Rigsby, come here," Lisbon barked.

The male agents met Lisbon in the middle of the bullpen.

"This is Agent Grace Van Pelt, our newest member," she told them, despite knowing they knew full well who she was. "Van Pelt, this is Agents Rigsby and Cho,"

Van Pelt nodded to Cho, muttering she was happy to meet him, then smiled shyly at Rigsby.

"Do stop drooling over her, Rigsby,"

Lisbon glared at Jane who walked lazily up to the team.

"Get to know her first," he continued.

"Uh, Van Pelt, this is Patrick Jane, my consultant," she explained.

He smiled charmingly, holding out a hand. "I'm sure you'll fit in here perfectly, Agent Van Pelt," he told her.

She smiled, but was clearly embarrassed by his earlier comments. "Thank you, Mr Jane,"

"Drop the formalities, please. Jane or Patrick is just fine."

Lisbon shook her head. As far as first impressions went, Patrick Jane sure knew how to give them, she mused.

Van Pelt had decided to come on a good day, though; they'd just wrapped up a case, and had just been doing paperwork that afternoon. Or, she had been doing paperwork. Cho and Rigsby had been bickering, and Jane… she dreaded to think what he'd been doing. She had argued with Minelli for days, before finally resigning to the fact that Jane was staying. He closed cases, after all.

She turned to Van Pelt. "So, what d'you want to know?" she asked her.

She shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. I'm familiar with everything.." her voice trailed off.

"Well, choose a desk, and we'll get you started."

"No case today, then?" she inquired.

Lisbon shook her head. "You chose to come on a pretty boring day," she admitted. "But, that means we can get you settled before you go out into the field."

Van Pelt nodded. "What can I do then?"

A voice behind Van Pelt spoke up. "Agent Lisbon…?"

Ron from downstairs leant out from behind Van Pelt. "I have a package for you," he continued.

Lisbon raised a sceptical eyebrow. "I didn't order anything," she muttered.

Jane grinned. "I did though," he told her.

She scowled, but allowed him to sign for the package-whatever it was.

"Are you going to tell the class what you got, Jane?" she remarked sarcastically.

He shook his head. "How about a team photo?"

"You can't just change the subject like that, Jane," she said, exasperated.

"Please," he said, sticking out his bottom lip.

"Who's gonna take it, Jane?" she asked him.

Jane turned to Ron. "He can," he said with a grin.

"No, man, I really need to get back downstairs."

"Oh, come on, Ron," he motioned to Lisbon. "She might even promote you," Jane waved his hands widely, positioning his next words in the air. "CBI Ron. It's got a good ring to it, don't ya think?" he asked with a grin. "You could work upstairs with us," he continued.

Lisbon slapped him on the arm. "You know I don't have the authority to do that," she told him.

Ron looked at her. "I'll take the photo," he said with a nod.

"I'm sorry, but I can't promote you, Ron," she told him.

He shrugged. "I'll still take the photo," he told her.

Lisbon shook her head, resigning.

"Gather round!" Jane yelled.

Rigsby, Cho and Van Pelt stood behind Jane and Lisbon. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. She blushed profusely. "Is this really necessary, Jane?" she asked.

He smiled, but didn't reply.

Lisbon later found out that Jane had ordered a photo frame, but the team soon lost interest of the photo inside it. Whenever Ron went past Lisbon's office though, he smiled, remembering the SCU, and how the pain in the ass consultant got him promoted.


	4. Fundraiser Ball

**A/N: Back again! It's a rainy Sunday, and I have nothing better to do, so here's the next one-shot :) Thanks so much for all the reviews, favourites and alerts; it's great to know people are enjoying this! **

**Fundraiser Ball**

Lisbon wrinkled her nose in disgust and smoothed the front of her dress. There was one thing she hated about being a detective at the CBI, and it could be summed up in three words: annual fundraiser ball. She disliked the dressing up, the extra attention people paid her, the lying to get more money for the department.

Unfortunately, Patrick Jane insisted on accompanying her this year also.

She took another sip of wine, eyes falling once more to the creep who'd been watching her most of the night. She sighed, and closed her eyes.

"What, not enough caffeine?" Jane remarked.

"Very funny," she replied sarcastically.

He stood in close proximity to her, in an attempt to not get trampled by milling patrons. The event was making him queasy. Jane hadn't been so nicely dressed since his psychic days, and the entire environment was causing an array of uncomfortable memories to come flooding back. "What's up?" he asked the agent.

"That bozo over there won't stop staring," she muttered behind her wine glass, proceeding to gulp a large portion of the liquid.

"Why wouldn't he?"

"What d'you mean, Jane?" she asked, exasperated. She didn't need him joking around with her, not on a night like this.

"You're very attractive. Men would be crazy _not_ to stare."

Her eyes widened at the comment. "Is this why you came here, Jane?" she asked.

He grinned. "Nah. I just like this sorta thing."

"The hell you don't."

He grabbed her hand. "Let's stop that scumbag from staring, then," he told her.

The past few years, a lot had happened, and Jane and Lisbon had grown closer. Nothing would have prepared her from holding her hand, though. "Jane!" she yelped. "What the hell are you doing?"

"A favour for a friend," he replied with a smile. Still taking her hand hostage, he led her to the centre of the room, where people were, dare she admit it, _dancing._

She shook her head. "No, Jane, please, just don't."

"Not gonna happen, Lisbon. I love this song!" he said giddily.

She whipped her head around, looking for anyone, Rigsby, Cho, Van Pelt, who could free her from the disaster that was likely to occur. Jane had been with the team for a couple of years, but he'd never pulled a stunt like this. "I could get you fired," she loathed.

"All in good time, my dear,"

"Fraternisation isn't allowed," she tried again.

"Well then, it's a good thing we aren't fraternising then, isn't it?" Jane asked with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, and tried half-heartedly to escape from her consultant's grasp.

He whipped her round, so they were face to face. There was no denying she had a slight attraction for the man, but never expected either of them to act on them. He was a grieving widower, for god sake. He should know better, she thought to herself. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, as he still held onto her hand. Jane circled his thumb on the small of her back. "Relax, Lisbon," he told her. "It's just a dance,"

_Just a dance_. This man would surely be the death of her.

Despite better judgement, she allowed Jane to pull her even closer to him, as he led her to the music. It was a slow, intimate song, making Lisbon even more weary, but she had to admit; seeing Jane sway contentedly to the music, eyes closed and a smile on her face, was priceless. He didn't give himself enough credit, needed to be free of some of the demons he carried.

"Whoa, man, look at the boss and Jane!" Rigsby exclaimed, pulling Cho's attention from the possible donator he was talking to and onto the dance floor.

He continued staring, but didn't see the significance of it. "Incredible," he deadpanned, going back to his previous conversation.

"Come on, Cho. They're dancing!" he told his partner. "The boss, dancing!" Rigsby repeated to himself. "Maybe Jane really can hypnotise people," he said with a shake of his head.

"If you're so impressed, why don't you take a photo," Cho commented, still unimpressed.

Rigsby shrugged, and, taking Cho as being serious, pulled out his camera.

Lisbon, who had finally relaxed, didn't notice the antics of her two team members. Jane, on the other hand, had witnessed the entire scenario pan out, and turned so both he and Lisbon were in range of the camera. He knew, that to a casual observer, they most certainly did look like they were _fraternising_ as Lisbon would say. Jane smiled to himself. _Good._ At least now that creep would stop staring at his boss now. He looked down just as Lisbon looked up to smile at him.

Neither one of them noticed the camera shutter going off, and the picture saving to Rigsby's memory card.

In the coming years, both Jane and Lisbon pretended to forget about the entire incident, when in fact they both couldn't.

The night before he went to Las Vegas, Jane snuck back into the CBI building, wanting to find one keepsake of the team. He didn't realise that the camera Rigsby had used at the fundraiser ball would still be in the agent's desk, though. Smiling fondly at the memories of that night, he took the memory card from the camera, and placed it back in the desk. He knew Rigsby would never realise what was missing.

One particularly lonely night in Vegas, Jane went to a print shop that was open 24 hours, and got the photos developed. The clerk gave him a weird look, of course. No-one ever came to the place, especially at 4 o'clock in the morning.

Most of the pictures, Jane looked at once, whimsically remembering each member of the Serious Crimes Unit. The picture of him and Lisbon, though, he put in his battered wallet. Opposite the picture of Charlotte and Angela. It seemed… right. His past, and his future. He knew he would get back to her.


	5. The Devil's Demise

**A/N: Just want to say thank you again to the readers/reviewers/favouriters/followers of this story- it really means a lot to me! So I should probably just say that these one shots aren't in any order; one might be during Jane's first few years at the CBI and the next might be set years later. So like this one. Hope you enjoy! **

**The Devil's Demise**

Ten years, it had taken him, to finally kill him. Ten years to avenge his family, to move on with his life. Even weeks later, the newspapers would still be screaming the news: California's most notorious serial killer was dead. Red John, killed. It hadn't been at his hands as he wished though. Lisbon had been captured, and it was Van Pelt who had delivered the kill shot. It seemed right, somehow. Her life had also been destroyed by the monster too.

Lisbon, thankfully, had escaped with her life. Her life was more important than his revenge. Unfortunately, privacy at that moment was not on the agenda. Minutes after the shot had been fired, the news that Red John had faced his demise had spread like wildfire. The team; Agents Cho, Van Pelt, Rigsby, and their consultant Patrick Jane supporting a very weak Lisbon were bombarded with media, paramedics and CBI officials the moment they had stepped out of Red John's cabin. Jane wanted to sleep for a few years at least; Red John had denied him of that for the past ten years. But, he had to look after Lisbon, who was clutching to his shirt, eyes still clenched shut. The blood from the cuts on her arm were seeping into his clothing, but he didn't care, and tightened his hold on her.

"Thank you for saving me," she whispered for his ears only.

He smiled, pressing a kiss on her temple. "Do you really think I would've left you, Teresa?" he asked.

She laughed weakly. "He sure made me think that,"

"You shouldn't have believed it for a second," Jane told her, resting his cheek on her hair.

Lisbon curled closer into his embrace momentarily. "I should go talk to these people," she told him.

"Let the team sort it, Lisbon. You need to see the paramedics," he pointed over to the ambulances lights, flashing mundanely in the dark.

She shook her head. "I need to do this, Jane," she stood on her toes, taking his face in her hands, kissing him softly. Before he could deepen the kiss, she had left.

Jane stood alone. The rest of the team were milling about, obviously at a loss as to what they should be doing. He felt the same way. They'd all been on the same hell of a journey for a large portion of their lives. What were they going to do now? He looked back at the cabin, shrouded in darkness, and dark as his past, before following his boss into the crowd. There was something she had to know.

Lisbon knew she looked terrible. Red John had kept her captive for over 48 hours, slowly torturing her, making her believe she truly was alone in the world. She was slightly disappointed he didn't die at her hands. He eyes narrowed from the blinding flashes of light that was harassing her sight. Bertram came to stand beside her. She decided it wasn't the best time to tell him he was one of Jane's previous seven suspects. Her boss put a firm hand on her shoulder. "You sure you can do this, Agent Lisbon?" he asked.

She nodded, determined. "Who else is going to tell the world?"

His grip tightened. "I'm proud of you, Teresa."

The soulless media personnel went silent the moment they saw her. This was what they were here for. Like a pack of wolves, they advanced on her, questions roaring in her ears once more. The area they were standing in wasn't large; just outside Sacramento at a roadside cabin. Trees loomed over Lisbon, reminding her again of her time spent underneath the murderer's house. Weakly, Lisbon snatched a recorder from the nearest reporter.

"I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon from the CBI. My team and I have been the key investigators for the serial killer Red John for ten years now. Tonight, in a pre-planned operation, we invaded his home with a warrant for his arrest. Red John tried to attack one of my agents, and he is now dead."

It wasn't all true, of course. The invasion hadn't been planned, but Van Pelt had every right to kill him, when he threatened to kill Lisbon. She knew that her team, any one of them, especially Jane, would've killed him even if he wasn't being a threat at that moment. Lisbon sighed. She had been so glad that Jane hadn't killed Red John. He insisted it would heal him, but she knew full well that wasn't the case. Selfishly, she hadn't wanted him to kill Red John, either. Since he was only a consultant for the CBI, if he killed without reason, the consequences would've been severe.

She handed the recorder back to the reporter, who looked at her incredulously. "Th-thank you," he stammered.

Jane had kept his head down, wanting to avoid all the media attention he could. His name wasn't unknown in society; everyone knew about the faux psychic who'd gotten his family killed. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt joined him. They'd all refused to be attended to by the ambulance that had been sent until they knew Lisbon was ok. Lights were still flashing; cop cars, ambulance, cameras. Jane shielded his eyes from the artificial light, determined to find Lisbon. He really didn't want to leave her alone anymore. She was standing, staunch, in front of several reporters.

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she curled into him, arms wrapping around his waist. In turn, he wrapped his arms around her, ignoring everything around them. He leant down to whisper in her ear. "Y'know, there's something I've been meaning to tell you,"

"What's that?" she whispered back.

He smiled. "The thing I said before I shot you? I meant it, Teresa,"

"I love you too, Patrick,"

Almost every news company in the state had gotten pictures of the Serious Crimes Unit boss of the CBI embracing her the pictures all said the same thing: Red John was dead.


	6. Reminder

**A/N: I'm baaaack! Nah, I'm sorry I've been absent for so long-just haven't been in the right head space to write, and no inspiration. This idea's been stuck with me for a while, and it refused to leave. It's angsty, but don't worry people, it is Jisbon! Still not too sure about it, but please enjoy :)**

**Reminder**

She had come back. After months of searching, Lorelei Martins had returned, and with it, a shit storm for Agent Lisbon and her team. The reappearance of Red John's mistress had caused major conflicts between the CBI, FBI and Homeland Security, and everyone was beginning to question Bob Kirkland's ulterior motives for helping the CBI. And as for Lisbon… Lisbon was confronted with feelings that she had tried so hard to conceal for so many years about a particular pain in the ass consultant. She was jealous, insanely jealous over Lorelei, and saw her as a threat not only on a professional level, but a personal one too. And when Jane had told her he trusted the woman, Lisbon knew she finally had to address the feelings she had for the man.

The results though, were hardly favourable.

She, CBI Special Agent Teresa Lisbon, loved, _was in love_, with none other than Patrick Jane. Even worse was the fact that he knew about it. Teased her about her ultimatum, taunted her so he could continue. Wordlessly pleaded with her so she wouldn't tell Bertram the truth. And, of course, she allowed for all of it. Because, for years now, she was madly in love with him.

She hated herself most, though, for letting her emotions over take her professional front, leaving her an open book, a girl holding back tears, wearing her heart on her sleeve. All in front of him. In that damn house where he'd met Lorelei just moments before she herself had arrived. For years, Lisbon had prided herself on being able to hide her emotions. Use them to protect her. So Van Pelt didn't realise how hurt she was when they had investigating the death of the surfer girl with the alcoholic dad. Theoretically, so Jane didn't realise how much she loved him. Apparently, she couldn't even rely on her façade anymore. He knew her too well, the bastard.

She tried to not feel sorry for him, when Lorelei shot Lennon and broke his trust. She left without telling him the name of the monster who had killed his wife and child. Then, days later, the call had come through. And she had to tell her consultant the news. Lorelei Martins had been found dead in an abandoned warehouse filled with unused carny equipment. Some sick joke on Red John's part, trying to remind Jane of his carny roots.

The words, so cold and heartless, still resounded in her head: _"She had it coming."_

After that, she found him, sitting in her SUV. Wordlessly, she sat in beside him and put the keys in the ignition. By some unspoken agreement, she drove them both back to her apartment. There was not a chance in hell that she was going to leave him alone on a night like this. She kept her eyes focussed on the road; he was probably tucked up in some dusty corner of his mind palace.

As the pair ascended the steps to her apartment, Jane's arm found its way on her lower back. They could have been under the allusion that it was just another normal day at the office.

Except, they weren't at the office. And it wasn't a normal day.

After a moments' hesitation, he wound his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She readily accepted the gesture. She was mad, yes, but she had missed him terribly the past few weeks. The human contact reminded her he hadn't gone to Vegas for six months again without saying goodbye. Somewhat reluctantly, she rested her head on his shoulder, to which his cheek grazed her hair.

"I'm sorry," he murmured in her ear.

She hummed an inaudible response. He didn't press her any further. They entered her flat, and Lisbon turned the lights on, disliking the dark, after being at a crime scene just hours before. He gave her side one last squeeze before releasing her, offering a small, but genuine smile. She tried to return it, but failed.

Jane frowned, but Lisbon interrupted him before he could speak, "I can get you some extra blankets, if you like," she offered.

He shook his head. "I'll be fine, thank you,"

"And you're fine on the couch?"

"Lisbon, I've spend most of my waking hours sleeping on that old leather couch in the bull pen. I'll be fine,"

To this, he received a smile, and a light laugh. God, he loved her laugh. "Good night, Jane," she said, stony mask back in place.

"Good night, Teresa," he told her back as she went up the stairs to her bedroom.

Lisbon couldn't sleep. It seemed all the stresses of the past week were coming back, and it didn't count for a dreamless sleep. Silent tears streamed down her face, and, against all her best efforts, she couldn't stop them.

She should've been thankful he hadn't been killed in the whole debacle. But she still felt like she lost a small part of him, and she was scared, so scared, that she was going to lose him completely in his quest for Red John.

At that moment, she heard footsteps on her stairs. Jane rested up against her door frame, hair mussed, vest and jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up. "You awake?" he whispered.

"What's up, Jane?"

He approached her cautiously, like she was a wild animal. Perched on the edge of her bed, he grasped her hand. "I'm truly sorry, Lisbon,"

She shook her head, and tears spilled down her cheeks. He cocked his head, eyes pained. "Oh, Lisbon," he whispered, pulling her into his arms. She clutched him tightly, sobbing, internally hating herself for being so weak. They fell back onto the bed together.

With a finger, he propped her chin up, to which she was faced with his phone. She heard the shutter go off. "What was that for?" she choked.

He pulled her into his embrace again. "A reminder that I never want to cause or see your tears again."


End file.
